Blue Gold

Professor Dearborn spoke up. "Pardon me, but I'm afraid I agree with the congressman. The Los Angeles case was a classic case of water imperialism. If what you're saying is true, you're laying the groundwork for a water monopoly."

"Let me pose a scenario, Dr. Dearborn. The drought persists. The Colorado River is unable to meet demand. The cities are dying of thirst. You wouldn't have lawyers debating water allocation, you'd have gunfights at the water hole as in the old days. Think about it. Thirst-crazed mobs in the street, attacking all authority. The complete breakdown of order. The Watts riots would be a schoolyard fight by comparison."

Dearborn nodded like a man in a trance. "You're right," he said, clearly troubled. "But, if you'll pardon me . . . it just doesn't seem right."

She cut him short. "This is a fight for survival, professor. We live or we die according to our will."

Defeated, Dearborn leaned back, arms folded, and shook his head.

Kinkaid took up the cudgels. "Don't let her confuse the issue with her phony scenarios, Professor Dearborn."

"Apparently I have not been able to change your mind."

Kinkaid stood and said, "No, but I'll tell you what you did do. You've given me some good ammunition for when I bring this matter up again before committee. I wouldn't be surprised if antitrust action is merited. I'll bet my colleagues who voted for the Colorado River bill would change their minds if they knew that the whole system was going to be under the thumb of one corporation." "I'm sorry to hear that," Brynhild said.

"You're going to be a damned lot more sorry when I get through with you. I want to leave your private amusement park immediately."

She gazed at him with sadness. She admired strength even when it was used against her.

"Very well." She spoke into a radio she had clipped to her belt. "It will take a few minutes to get your luggage and ready the helicopter."

The door to the hall opened, and the man who had escorted Kinkaid earlier guided him from the chamber.

When they were gone, Brynhild said, "While some may consider this drought a disaster, it presents a golden opportunity. The Colorado River is only part of our plan. We are continuing to acquire control over water systems around the country. You are all in a position to influence the success of our goals in operations in your communities. There will be great reward for every one in this room, beyond your imagination in fact. At the same time you will be doing something for the common good as well." Her eyes swept both sides of the table. "Anyone who wants to leave now can do so. I only request that you give your word to keep your silence about this meeting."

The guests exchanged glances and some uneasily shifted their weight, but nobody accepted her offer of an exit visa. Not even Dearborn.

Waiters materialized magically, placed pitchers of water on the tables and a glass in front of each man.

Brynhild looked around the assemblage. "It was William Mulholland who was most responsible for bringing water to Los Angeles. He pointed to Owens Valley and said, 'There it is. Take it.' "

As if on signal, the waiters poured the glasses full and re treated.

Raising her glass high, she said, "There it is. Take it."

She put the glass to her lips and took a long drink. The others followed suit as if in a strange communion ritual.

"Good," she said. "Now for the next step. You will go home and wait for a call. When a request is made you will comply without question. Nothing that transpired at this meeting can be divulged. Not even the fact that you were here."

She sca

With that, she left the table, strode across the room and through the double doors she had entered by, walking down a corridor and into an anteroom. Two men stood in the room, legs wide apart, arms folded behind their backs, their deep-set black eyes glued to the flickering screens that took up one wall. They were identical twins dressed alike in matching black leather jackets. They had the same stocky physiques, high cheekbones, hair the color of wet hay, and dark, beetling brows.

"Well, what do you think of our guests?" she said with derision. "Will these worms serve their purpose and loosen the soil?"

The analogy was lost on the brothers, who had only one thing on their minds.

Speaking in an eastern European accent, the man on the right said, "Whom do you want . . ."

". . . us to eliminate?" said the man on the left, finishing the sentence.

Their monotone voices were exactly alike. Brynhild smiled with satisfaction. The answer reaffirmed her conviction that she had made the right decision rescuing Melo and Radko Kradzik from the NATO forces that wanted to bring the notorious brothers before the World Court at the Hague charged with crimes against humanity. The twins were classic sociopaths and would have made a mark for themselves even without the Bosnian war. Their paramilitary status conferred semi-legitimacy on the murder, rape, and torture they carried out in the name of national ism. It was difficult to imagine these monsters ever having been in a mother's womb, but somewhere they had forged the ability to intuit what the other was thinking. They were the same men, only in separate bodies. Their bond made them doubly dangerous because they could act without verbal communication. Brynhild had stopped trying to tell them apart. "Whom do you think should be eliminated?"

One man reached out with a hand whose clawlike fingers seemed to be made for inflicting pain and reversed the video tape. The other twin pointed to a man in a blue suit.

"Him," they said simultaneously.

"Congressman Kinkaid?"

"Yes, he didn't . . ."

". . . like what you said."

"And the others?"

Again the video reversed and they pointed.

"Professor Dearborn? A pity, but your instincts are probably right. We can't afford to have anybody with even the trace of scruples. Very well, cull him out as well. Do your work as discreetly as possible. I'm scheduling a meeting of the board of directors soon to go over our long-range plans. I want everything in place before then. I won't tolerate mistakes the way those fools bungled their job in Brazil ten years ago."

She whirled from the room and left the twins to themselves. The men remained there unmoving, their glittering eyes looking at the screen with the hungry expression of a cat choosing the fattest goldfish in the tank for his di

Chapter 8

The river scenery had changed little since Dr. Ramirez waved good-bye from his dock and wished the Trouts a safe trip. The airboat followed mile after mile of the twisting and unbroken ribbon of dark green water. An unyielding wall of trees hemmed the river in on both sides and separated it from the eternal night of the forest. At one point they had to stop because the river was blocked by debris. They welcomed the break from the mind-numbing drone of the airplane engine. They tied lines around the entangled logs and branches and unclogged the bottleneck. The job was time-consuming, and it was late after noon when the leafy ramparts gave way to brief glimpses of open space and cultivated fields along the river's edge. Then the forest opened up to reveal a cluster of grass huts.